There’s a joke about ageing: one day, you no longer fall over, you ‘have a fall’. I’m not there yet, but when I tripped on a step recently, it wasn’t elegant. My ankle made an audible pop, and I hit the ground.

I’ve broken bones before, but this time the hardest part of recovery has been how it’s affected my sense of self. In recent years, I’ve built part of my identity around running, so being told to stop – for months – was a blow. Now when people ask if I’m a runner, I’m not sure what to say.

I’m just an amateur, but it turns out that injured athletes at every level go through something similar. Unable to compete, they often lose the personal and social structures their identity is built upon, leaving them particularly vulnerable to mental health struggles.

So how to respond? A clue comes from a study of retiring athletes. Those whose identity and social relationships rested solely on their sport struggled most. ‘Retirement entailed not just a loss of a sense of “me”,’ the researchers write, ‘but also a loss of a sense of “we” and “us”.’

Those with social ties and activities beyond their sport coped better. They managed to ‘remoor’ their identity, anchoring it somewhere new and meaningful, like study or other communities, while also keeping a thread to the old – by coaching, say, or staying close to teammates. As one put it: ‘I’m more than my sport.’

Unlike the people I’ve been reading about, I will return to running, but there will be a day when I won’t. So this pause has made me reflect on how much of my identity rests on one activity. Next time I fall – or have a fall – I want more than one thing to catch me.